I can offer you my hand,
my impatient tentacles that will graze your thighs. Let them find us gasping in bathroom stalls and buses with our fingers sticky with greed, with eyes that see only dark corners and opportunity as we rendezvous on lover’s lane. Continue reading “Anything for you”→
He was all logic and feigned cool detachment until our skins touched. At my grant of access, his tongue delved into my mouth. My arms reached up and tangled around his neck, while his fingers traced my spine, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. He tried to be gentle with my clothing, but his strong rough hands were not made for tiny clasps.
There is a cruel irony in cemeteries.
You’d see tombstones standing tall,
strong and erect, with the epitaph
ready to last 100 years, as if they can
halt their inevitable decay. When my Continue reading “Epitaph”→
I wake up with at least 1000 words
in my head every day. About half
of them disappear down the drain
when I shower. I play with the other
half like a set of legos, mentally
constructing and deconstructing,
until I make something I like.
Those are the words I write down.
On good days, I call the remaining words poetry.
On bad days, I call them shit. Continue reading “365 Wonders”→
I’ve come to the conclusion that clarity is not always necessary and not always possible and that one’s emotions can be muddled into a big ball of muck and still be totally valid, just as they are. Continue reading “Clarity”→
Kiss me where my carotid
meets my clavicle, leave
cherry blossoms scattered
across my flesh, dot the
highways of my neck. Bend
me like words. Arch me more
than a metaphor. Make me
your masterpiece. Please.